Viral Campaign
by RevanBodyguard
Summary: Based off the Viral Campaign episodes before Resident Evil 5's release, events takes place after the Kijuju incident. Chris Redfield suffers from PTSD and has several mental breakdowns. Close to the episodes I can and depict partnership. 5 Chapters.
1. Ceremony 01

"There's more to being a hero than saving lives. Sometimes just to know the difference to lives saved…"

Chris stood at ease, trying not to look uncomfortable at the BSAA Press Event. It's difficult when standing before other agents and journals watching and flashing cameras, taking in every word that is being said. He could breathe a little easier when he spotted Sheva among the crowd. He wished that Jill was here as well, but she has to recover from her ordeal. Who knows what else she endured when Wesker placed that mind control device on her chest?

"Agent Redfield saw the worst of what mankind is capable of, in turn, he exerted the best."

He tilted his head to the direction his name is mentioned. Military ranked sergeant droning on with the ceremonial speech of recognition.

"Bravery, sacrifice, valor," the sergeant empathized every single word to inspire morale among the common grunts. "It is a great honor that I present this medal to Christopher Redfield with the gratitude of the nation and the world."

Applauses broke and shutters from cameras erupted all at once right on cue.

The sergeant took out a small black case and opened it, passing it to Chris's hands. Chris quickly glanced down at the small silver medal before closing it. The sergeant silently saluted and Chris followed suit for a long moment before breaking it. Chris nodded towards his higher-ranking officer as he stood before the podium to speak into the microphone.

"Thank you," he said, blinking from the lights as he tried to look beyond the crowd. His hands shook about the acceptance speech in his hands. "It is indeed an honor to accept this award…" He froze, imagining the word, 'Kijuju' written across the pages. Gulping, he continued, shuffling them and reciting from memory. It had to be his imagination, which was in the past and this is the present. "I would not be here…"

He blinked, lowering his head and gripping the podium by the sides, dropping the papers of his acceptance speech down the stage. Journalists selfishly stepped forward to snap more shots and ask questions. Sheva made her way pass them and gathered the pages, looking them over to find an answer. Nothing. _Chris, what's going on?_ His face read of unspeakable fear, that alone worried her. Thankfully, the press event has ended. Sooner than planned.

"Good luck talking to him, Agent Alomar. Considering that you're his partner, maybe you can get something out of him. We couldn't get a solid answer out of him."

Chris sat in a chair out back, cradling a bottle of refrigerated water that he hasn't opened.

"Chris," Sheva said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright?" It was a stupid question to ask – of course, he's not! He suddenly blanked out in the middle of his speech. But what could she say without being sounding intrusive?

Chris touched her hand, his a little cold to the touch. "Everyone keeps asking me that and I told them: I'm fine." He shrugged it off, not looking at her. "I just had a little stage fright, that's all. It's nothing."

"It's nothing" She crossed her arms. "If it's just nothing then why can't you look at me and say that?"

His head jerked up to her. She can read the grief behind his built tough exterior, the sadness written in his cloudy blue eyes. He didn't repeat his sentence.

"Good, now that we can communicate better," she anxiously took out the acceptance speech from earlier. "What did you see in these?"

For a minute there, he looked like he was going to flinch and have another mental breakdown. He surprised her by grabbing the papers and scattering them across from him. "Nothing." He persisted with the lie, refusing to look at them.

"I hate it when you do this to me. What's wrong with you?"

Chris just studied her face silently before sighing. "I don't know what the Hell is wrong with me, Sheva…"


	2. Date 02

Sheva Alomar found it difficult to sit down to read while so much was going on. She only been house keeping for Chris for two weeks now. She insisted that she stayed with him since his incident at the press event. He grudgingly accepted her offer, telling her that she doesn't need too. That's true, but she wanted to, ending the argument. Living like this reminds her of co-ed dormitories that were allowed at the universities. It hadn't been a discomfort to either of them, amazingly, both respect each other and their privacy, though Chris is quieter than most, she can trust him. Besides, she wouldn't want to leave him by himself when she heads off tomorrow. He isn't able to go on missions until his condition improves which seems unlikely at the moment. BSAA orders. At least his sister would be around town by then. Family would understand more than partners can. Claire can watch over him and knowing that, puts her at ease. More so than distracting herself into reading, she rather clean something that would take her mind off things a bit.

"Sheva," a familiar voice called out after the sound of a door shutting. "I'm home."

"You're back early," Sheva hopped off the sofa, abandoning a cheesy novel on a table to greet Chris by the door. She smiled, "How did it go?"

"You know, same old, same old," Chris tiredly leaned against a wall. She was referring to his weekly visits to the therapists the BSAA issued him to see. Not like he had much of a choice, they put him on leave or he'll be disobeying orders and that isn't so well looked upon. So far in the past weeks since that press event, therapy hasn't been of much help. All they mostly do is asking questions, tell him to take medication, and give him a pat on the back like a good boy. "The works."

"That doesn't tell me anything. Are you making any progress?"

He seems reluctant to tell her but he knew she would get her answer. "The shrink suggests that I try dating."

Sheva took a step back, crossing her arms. "That's fucking absurd. Are they trying to help you with your stress disorder or trying to get you laid?"

Chris sighed, "I know."

"What's her name?"

"Don't know. Supposed to be a blind date."

Take it to the boys at headquarters to arrange a blind date for you. Waiting for a date that's five minutes late. A sigh coming from a young Asian woman broke the silence. Looks like she has been waiting too. Maybe for her own date just like him. She noticed him, suddenly embarrassed, wrapping a strand of dark hair around her finger.

"Hey, are you my blind date?" She smiled, a suitable greeting.

"Depends. I don't know myself. Girl like you could be waiting for anyone."

"Right and a guy like you can be waiting for anyone," she held out her hand. "I'm Yumi Takeko."

Chris shook her hand, "Chris Redfield."

"Ah, you're the famous Chris Redfield that I keep hearing about."

"You heard about me?"

Yumi nodded eagerly. "Who hasn't?" She bent down to adjust her heel and her short black dress attire before slowly rising to eye level flirty all the sudden. "Big time hero, guy girls would love to drape their arms around, etcetera. They didn't say you look so handsome in person and single."

"So where to from here, Miss Takeko?"

"Oh, call me Yumi, Chris." She clung tightly to his arm, an outgoing move. "I know the best restaurant a couple blocks from here and the place to watch a real sunrise. Hope you don't mind saying up a bit, we'll be up _all_ night." She assured him followed by a wink.

"I haven't stayed up to watch a sunrise in a really long time." Chris had to hand it to Yumi. She knew how to have fun and spend a night. Camping out on a rooftop to view at a full moon can make a first date perfect. Just imagine the gorgeous sunrise in a couple hours.

"I haven't had someone to watch it with," she giggled, turned to him.

He found himself grinning to her. "Can't think of a better way to end a date than this."

"Who says it has to end?" That statement made him wonder what she meant by that. "We can take a bet." She shrugged, her twin pigtails bobbed on her bare shoulders.

Chris took a glance behind him, thought that he heard something. "Okay," he agreed as he stood up.

Yumi took the opportunity to take out a hand held mirror to reapply her lipstick.

Chris splashed a small pool of water surrounding a case of beer. "They're cold," he announced, grabbing two bottles. Yumi was too distracted by her reflection and lipstick covered napkin in hand she didn't hear him until he pressed a bottle against her arm.

She jumped, dropping her napkin to the ground. "Oh, that's cold!" She exclaimed, smiling as she took the bottle from his hand and turned her attention to her mirror.

Chris reached underneath his seat and pulled out a video camcorder, facing it towards her. "It's confession time."

"What is that?" She asked, not looking away from her mirror.

"Anything you want to admit?"

Yumi pushed back her bangs, smiling bashfully at him. "I don't know," she shook her head. "I'm probably guilty of something."

Chris eased out of his chair and into hers, still facing the camcorder in her direction. "Let's talk about it."

She continued to smile shyly and covered her face when his shoulder bumped hers. Turning her focus on her lipstick, "I don't-" Her mirror faced him.

Chris's smile vanished when he tried to blink away from the blinding glare reflecting from her mirror.

"Chris?" Yumi began, alarmed, "Chris, what's going--?" He was already on the hard pavement, groveling for the pain to stop and head in his hands blubbering. It's nothing she would never understand. "Chris, are you okay?" she asked, touching his back.

Seems like minutes have passed while in reality hours had when Chris came through. His date was gone, for good it seems. He must have unconsciously said something to her, maybe nothing at all or she panicked ran off. Whether she left to get some help or not, he highly doubted it. All that's left of her is the mirror she was using, now a lone crack on its surface. He picked up the discarded napkin. He flinched, a set back to what really happened. _Fuck…_

Kijuju was written on it.

Sheva was asleep when Chris got home. It was 2:30 A.M. He wouldn't expect her to be up at this time. She was sprawled on the sofa, deep in slumber, one of her books over her face, book marked on the bridge of her nose. A habit of hers, he noted as he placed the book on the table, she did mention that she enjoyed reading from time to time. It wouldn't be best to wake her but anywhere is better than sleeping on the lumpy furniture. He carried her off to her room.

"Chris?" She sheepishly observed, a light sleeper. "You're back." She touched his jaw line but pulled her hand back to yawn. "What time is it?"

"Two-forty," he told her, "You can go back to sleep, Shev." He put her down on her bed.

She turned her head that can be taken as a nod. "Hmm," closing her eyes as she curled up in her bedside. "Aren't you going to bed?"

He chuckled. Still worried about him at a time like this. Typical Sheva. "Not right away but soon," he promised. He noticed the exhaustion on her face. She has it rough, dealing with current events and him, and it's only been a month since that mission in Africa. It's surprising how she can hold it together. Even on those humiliating occasional nights when the nightmares got worse and he found Sheva in his bed, drained of energy beside him.

It'll be a real bitch to sleep and face the side effects the next day. He glanced out a window in the living room as he took a seat on the sofa. He finally got to see that sunrise that he hasn't seen in a long time.


End file.
